Mutuality
by M4r1-ch4n
Summary: Dean finds out that he and Castiel share more than a few secretive encounters and the resolve to prevent the impeding apocalypse from taking place.


**A/N:** First fanfic ever in the **Supernatural** fandom. My friend (Mystik Ivanow) asked me to write something, and the prompt was Castiel's handprint on Dean's arm. I wrote this drabble during work and after having it posted (and fortunately _reviewed_) at the Dean/Castiel community at LJ, I'm more confident about posting it here. I'm still watching the earlier seasons, so please forgive me if Dean is too out of character. Bizarre wording and typos are all my fault, since I'm not a native English speaker and my grammar is always awkward when it comes to fanfiction.

**Spoilers:** Season 4 in general.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural.

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**Mutuality**

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The last memory Dean had was of him removing his shirt and the soft rustle of motel sheets against his half-naked body, his brother already snoring on the other bed; they did not involve, not even by a long shot, him standing in the middle of a beautifully furnished living room, his fingers tightly wrapped around Ruby's knife - which was now resting between the shoulder blades of some not-really-poor demon he had never seen before, but who happened to be really close to someone he _did_ know.

Castiel.

Pulling the dagger off the demon's dead host and stepping aside, the hunter rolled the body over and away from the angel, who was still lying on the floor with a startled gaze towards Dean. The human offered Castiel his hand and he took it, intertwining their fingers and rising to his feet again. As soon as both were standing and the only sound in the room was that of their ragged breathing, Dean realised that his chest was heaving and that sweat trailed down his bare chest and back, meaning he had obviously done _something_ between his last memory and that moment. The hunter also noticed a very dull, almost imperceptible but comforting heat coming from a specific spot on his left arm...

The handprint.

"You... Came," the angel whispered, his expression only now returning to his usual thoughtful and serious look instead of the almost surprised one he had been wearing on his face when Dean became aware of his new surroundings. The hunter inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, opening them slowly and realising that... Yeah, Castiel was really there - which meant he had done something weird and/or not expected of him and his brain translated that as _trouble_. As in Sam's-demon-exorcising-powers-trouble.

"It seems like I did, though I have no idea why or how. Shit," he cursed, too astonished to even care he was swearing in front of an angel. It wasn't like Castiel was so fluffy and holy and mighty as he once thought angels to be, anyway, "What the fuck is going on here?"

"I believe you've unknowingly answered my call, Dean." Castiel explained to him, fixing his intense blue gaze on the hunter's figure before dropping his eyes to look at the dead body near them.

"So now what, you've got a freaking angelic cell phone?", he shot back, a shiver running down his spine. He didn't like this - he didn't like it at all. He remembered Hell and he very much wished to stay out of that place forever - but funny mind tricks didn't seem to be one of the best ways to earn back his opportunity to go to Heaven or someplace similar. He eyed the blood-covered dagger, wondering how he get there (wherever _there_ was) and how he had killed a demon strong enough to endanger Castiel without remembering anything.

"No, Dean. I'm talking about... This."

The angel took a couple of steps forward, pressing his palm against the handprint he had left on the hunter's arm and making him gasp; suddenly the small warmth he could still feel from that particular spot of skin was gone and replaced by a much stronger heat, something so powerful that almost burned. He parted his lips to yell and tell the angel to stop it, but Castiel dropped his hand quickly, making the heat become something tolerable again. Dean stared at him, wide-eyed and only slightly afraid while he rubbed his arm and the mark there.

"Care to explain that to me? Because while it clearly makes some fucked up sense to you, I'm pretty much in the dark here," he muttered, looking around and trying to decided _where_ he was. The furniture was tasteful and looked damn expensive - and he was pretty sure that carrara marble fireplaces weren't that common around any town. The lavish curtains of the nearest window had been drawn open and a dark, pitch-black sky faced him back. His bare foot carried him there, close to the window - and his brain barely registered the cold from the probably expansive pavement he was standing on as he recognised the nocturnal skyline he was just looking at.

"Dude, what the fuck am I doing in Atlanta?"

If his memory served him right - and it better do, because he didn't want to remember what happened to him in freaking Hell and he did; now he definitely could use some remembering - he and Sam had stopped at a cheap motel near the outskirts of Rome. If he was standing in one of the tallest buildings in the city (because he wouldn't get such a beautiful view of the town's skyline otherwise), that meant he had crossed about 400 miles... He silently hoped to see his babe parked down in the streets, because that, at least, would bring back some sense of normalcy - even if "normalcy" was something far from normal or ordinary when it came to the Winchesters.

"It's like I said - you've answered to my call. But I did not know we had this mutual connection until now, nor that it was of such a powerful nature." The angel's voice was suddenly at Dean's side, loud enough to be heard by the hunter but barely over a whisper. The human jerked up, taking a couple of steps back before calming down when he remembered that only Castiel was there with him, turning to face the silent creature who was now staring at the city beneath them, too. "So this... Connection, as you put it. Did you create it when you dragged me out of Hell?"

"Yes. To grab someone from Hell is something so powerful that always leaves a mark, as you can see," he gesticulated towards the handprint and Dean moved back, probably assuming that Castiel would touch him again - but the angel only smiled before carrying on, his voice even and neutral, "And up until now, it also told me when you were in danger. I can feel when something bad is happening to you. What I did not know was that this was mutual, as I said. Apparently, you too can sense when I'm the one in danger."

"And why have I never done this before? I mean, snapping and sleepwalking around like this?", Dean queried back, folding his arms across his chest in a futile attempt to warm himself up; it was rather chilly in that room, now he wasn't fighting demons away while unconscious.

"Because I've never needed help before," Castiel replied simply, eyes roaming the hunter's exposed body and fixing his gaze on his own handprint there, "Perhaps the only time when you could have reacted like this was that incident with Anna and Alastair, but you were there - and you did stop him, so no warning was sent. There was no need for me to call you."

"So you deliberately called me tonight? As in... I dunno, sent me some kind of telephatic message?", Dean turned around, eyeing the city once more and trying to sort out his thoughts. He was distracted by the warm feeling of something being draped over his shoulders, namely the beige trenchcoat Castiel always wore and which helped to give him the whole tax accountant look. Blinking, the hunter faced his angel companion, face still and serious as ever - but Dean could swear he had seen the ghost of a smile on the heavenly creature's lips. It was strange to see him just in a white unbuttoned shirt and that blue, loosened necktie.

"I didn't specifically request your presence or your aid here, tonight. But I did think of you when the demon started a spell, something powerful and dangerous like the one Alastair tried before," Castiel answered, rolling up his sleeves in slow, careful motions, almost as if he didn't know if he was doing it right, "But I'm guessing my thoughts were really strong, since not only they got you here but also got the demon killed."

Dean pulled the trenchcoat tighter around him, surprised to feel the comfortable warmth it emanated from being worn for such a long time by the other creature; Castiel might be immune to the cold weather or other worldly injures, but his vessel certainly produced a healthy level of body heat. "That's... Fucked up, Cas. I mean, angels saving humans is acceptable and not unheard of, but the other way around? This is plain insane."

Dean didn't know whether his words or the perplexed look on his face caused the angel to laugh, but he did. It was a short, almost blink-and-miss-it one, but Castiel had laughed. Smiles, smirks and even chuckles were to be expected someday, even if his seemingly personal angelic bodyguard had trouble doing so, but a full, flat out _laugh_ was the last thing the hunter expected from the angel - especially in such a strange situation.

"You are special, Dean Winchester. You should start believing that," he replied with a small smile before walking away and towards the main door of the living room. "Come, we must go back to your brother. He'll be worried if he wakes up and you aren't there. You and that demon's knife, too.", he pursued his lips tight, not being able to look at the dagger which Dean carried in one if his hands, under the coat that protected him.

"That's not being special, that's getting weirder," the oldest Winchester brother sighed, following the angel into the hall and then the elevator, noticing they had visited a duplex penthouse, "Whatever were you doing here?"

"There was word about a weapon... Something powerful that could kill angels and slightly similar to the effect that knife of yours has with demons," he replied, his intense blue eyes watching the decreasing numbers on the small digital panel that indicated they were going down, "It's rumoured to be a spear, but we are not sure. The owner of this penthouse we've just been to is an art collector and we thought him to be in the possession of such artefact. Clearly the demons also heard about it and sent someone to investigate."

"Kill angels? But I thought that you could kill an angel by killing its host. Vessel, I mean," Dean quickly corrected himself, watching Castiel with the corner of his right eye; the angel did not smile this time.

"No. When you exorcise or kill a demon's host, you don't actually kill it - you send it back to Hell. When you kill an angel's vessel, you also make the angel return to Heaven, but it doesn't die either. To effectively kill an angel, you must turn it into a demon - and vice-versa."

The hunter's eyes went wide. "So when you told me that six of your brothers had fallen during battle..."

Castiel nodded solemnly. "Yes. The armies of Hell welcomed six new soldiers that night."

The elevator finally stopped, but Dean didn't move. His eyes were glued to the back of his angelic companion, fixed on the small wrinkles he could see on the white shirt which covered the angel's upper body. That was... That was awful. The battle for the 66 seals suddenly seemed grimmer, darker and heavier, if that was even possible. It was only when the doors threatened to close again and engulf Dean that the hunter moved, following the other creature along a very richly decorated but deserted hall and into the streets.

There, across him, stood his beloved Impala. Dean couldn't help but grin at the sight, rushing towards the car and getting right into the driver's seat, throwing Ruby's knife to the backseat; he was almost surprised to see Castiel opening the door before sliding quietly inside the car - the first time the hunter recalled seeing the angel there without appearing from thin air.

"Okay, so back to Rome..." Dean sighed and started the engine, enjoying its the soft rumbling and the feel of his babe's wheel against his hands. He barely focused on the way back, since the traffic was pretty much non-existent, but kept thinking about what Castiel had just disclosed to him. The idea of him turning into a demon was... Beyond frightening. Somehow he could tolerate the sad idea of angels becoming demons in the course of war, but not Castiel. Not the one who had saved him.

"We have to find this spear or whatever it is that can kill angels. It's dangerous and might fall in the wrong hands," he thought out loud, knowing that the angel was still there - unlike previous times, when he just vanished without so much as a goodbye and left him talking alone.

"Yes. They already have some artefacts like that, we cannot afford them owning one more.", the angel nodded, blue eyes fixed on the road. "Thank you, Dean."

"Thank me for what, dude?"

"Thank you for saving me."

The hunter turned to face Castiel, a small smile dancing on his lips. Dean found that a rare and yet beautiful sight to behold, almost forgetting about the road while he wondered how anyone could think about bringing harm to that handsome creature. Castiel's eyes were this deep shade of blue, reminding him of the ocean and the inner peace the waves always brought to him. But more than the ocean, the angel had become his rock of Gibraltar, a strength to rely on when his own was gone.

"And thank you."

He didn't need to look to know that Castiel was staring at him with his head tilted and not fully understanding his words.

"For everything, Cas."

This time, he did glance at his companion - and found himself wishing that Castiel smiled more like that, reaching his eyes and making the hunter warm from all the love he could see in the angel's loving gaze.

**THE END**

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**A/N²:** This whole idea about angels and demons not really dying but being transformed into their own enemies is something I've borrowed from a book, called _O Senhor da Chuva_ (The Lord of the Rain), by the Brazilian horror writer André Vianco. In the book, when one of the "sides" (Heaven or Hell) broke some rule or declared war, the other side had the chance to "capture" members of the other army (as in turning angels into demons and vice-versa), an idea that I found interesting to work with in the Supernatural world.

Kissu!  
Mari-chan.


End file.
